A Space Girl from Earth (The Kyroibi Trilogy Book 1)

by Christina McMullen

  Chapter 9

  Ellie drifted in a void. The nothingness of it all was a welcome relief after the outpouring of information that had nearly short-circuited her brain. A feeling of immeasurable calm enveloped her senses, wrapping around her like a comforting cocoon. It was a feeling she never wanted to end and yet, as she snuggled deeper into her mental covers, she heard her name echoing in the distance.

  “Ellie?”

  Five more minutes, she wanted to say, remembering early school day mornings, but she found she had no voice.

  “El’iadrylline, please wake up.”

  She felt something soft brush her forehead, a light, comforting touch at first, but with it came information. She braced herself for another attack, but found instead a gentle insistence that she leave the void behind.

  “Julian?” she called out in a voice barely above a whisper, but she still flinched at the sound, which was exaggerated after the period of sensory deprivation.

  “I’m here.”

  Again, something soft brushed her temples and the information stream inside her came alive, bringing her to full alertness. Ellie tensed, but instead of discordant thought, she found now a library inside her head, filled with new concepts, histories, and ideas, neatly sorted and compartmentalized, easily accessed with a simple thought.

  Her heart swelled as she realized what this was, what Julian meant when he said the Kyroibi was knowledge. She understood what she found was but a fraction of the whole. Ellie was grateful for the small, easy to assimilate bits of information instead of a full onslaught.

  It was all so incredibly fascinating and she could have spent endless hours examining all of her newfound enlightenment, were it not for the gentle insistence that she open her eyes and return to the real world. Julian wasn’t in her mind, exactly, but instead spoke to her through diodal communication. That in itself was a curious study and she intended to learn as much as she could about the strange, light-based telepathy, but along with his request, Julian had also sent a gentle reminder that time was something Ellie did not have in abundance.

  “How do you feel?” he asked, speaking aloud as she returned to consciousness.

  “Like my brain might explode,” she muttered, opening and immediately closing her eyes against the ultra-bright sterility of their surroundings. “What just happened?”

  “Svoryk managed to implant you with colony forming nanotransmitters. In addition to broadcasting your location anywhere in the galaxy, they were to probe your thoughts in a desperate search for knowledge of the Kyroibi.”

  “Is that why it felt like someone whacked me upside the head with a full set of encyclopedias?”

  “Indeed,” Julian replied, adjusting the environmental controls so that the light faded to a more ambient illumination. “The method was crude, but the sheer number of units were enough to trigger your defenses.”

  “Wait,” Ellie bolted upright. “Are you saying he got what he wanted?”

  “No, Ellie. The Eidyn have kept safe their history for millennia,” Julian assured her. “Svoryk’s misunderstanding of that which he hasn’t a chance of ever understanding caused you unnecessary discomfort and for that I apologize. It was fortunate I was able to get us to my ship before he could do any actual damage.”

  “Is that where we are now?” Ellie asked looking around at the stark, minimal surroundings that looked nothing like her expectations of what a space ship should be.

  “We are,” Julian confirmed, checking something on the console before him. “Leaving the system was our only option. Now that the transmitters are destroyed, we are well hidden.”

  “Leave the… system? Hang on then… We’re in outer space?” Ellie’s voice held no small amount of skepticism.

  “We are currently in orbit around Caeryvant, a dead star in what your astronomers call Ursa Minor.”

  “You’re trying to tell me that I slept through takeoff on a rocket ship?”

  “Not exactly,” Julian replied with a hint of a smile. Even after spending several years on Earth, it was at times easy to forget exactly how limited the Earthling mindset could be in matters pertaining to space. “Pulse propulsion is a far cry from jet propulsion. Were this a rocket ship, no, I suspect there would be no sleeping through the explosive reactions required for escape velocity. Spatial displacement is more efficient and less damaging to the environment.”

  “I see,” Ellie said, nodding sagely, though she was sure she wasn’t fooling Julian any more than she was herself. “So is there an observation deck or something?”

  “What is it you would like to observe?”

  “Are you serious?” Ellie rolled her eyes. “We’re in space, or so you claim. This may be old hat for you, but I’ve never even dreamed this to be a possibility in my lifetime. I just… I mean… Who wouldn’t want to see that?”

  “Of course. Very well then.” Julian turned back to the console and placed both hands upon it, bowing his head to hide the smile he could not hold back. Perhaps the Earthling mindset wasn’t the only one that was limited. It never occurred to him that the emptiness of space could be considered exciting, but then, he wasn’t the one who grew up on a planet that had essentially given up on space after making it no further than their own moon.

  “What? Oh! Oh my! Julian? What did you do?”

  Ellie’s stomach bounced in her abdomen as the floor dropped several feet and she found herself half floating and half flailing about trying to get her bearings.

  “I turned down the gravity simulator,” he explained. “I felt it only fair that your first encounter with open space be complete. Are you ready then?”

  “I am,” she said, though her heart was hammering in her chest. “But where shall I look?”

  The ship’s cockpit had no windows or even anything resembling the view screen that so many sci-fi movie ships were equipped with.

  “Anywhere. Everywhere.”

  With a conspiratorial wink, Julian withdrew his hand from the console, which then vanished from sight. A moment later, so did the entire ship.

  “Oh!” was all Ellie managed to squeak as her heart leapt into her throat.

  When she asked to see space, she didn’t expect to be floating unprotected in the vast and endless void. Her heart hammered as her eyes fixed on a nondescript point of light in the distance. She felt as if she was paradoxically being squeezed to death while scattering like flakes of ash on the wind. This was no ordinary panic. Try as she may, Ellie found nothing with which to ground and focus her reeling mind.

  With a snap of his hand, Julian brought the ship’s interior back into view and slowly adjusted the gravity simulator so that they floated gently to the ground. Even so, Ellie’s legs collapsed under her as she tried to bring her panic under control.

  “Oh, Ellie. Forgive me.” Julian dropped to his knees and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “My intentions were to give you an immersive experience. I have instead caused discomfort. I have failed again.”

  “No, Julian. I…I’m okay,” Ellie said with a shaky chuckle. Her panic had subsided, leaving behind the weak feeling of spent adrenaline. “I just wasn’t expecting to actually find myself floating in outer space. Maybe give a girl some warning next time.” Her last line was meant to lighten the situation, but rather than share the humor of the moment, Julian’s worry deepened.

  “I swore to protect you and keep you from harm’s way. I meant both real and perceived dangers,” Julian explained, eyes downcast. “That I failed to consider something as simple as disorientation sickness remains a worrisome negligence. I allowed my own frivolous indulgence to cloud my reason.”

  “Frivolous what?”

  “Your initial excitement,” Julian explained. “It was rather contagious and I could think of nothing but what joy it would bring me to facilitate what should have been a momentous experience. It was selfish and more so, it was dangerous.”

  A sudden warmth spread through Ellie’s chest and across her cheeks. “Well, to be fair, it was m
ost assuredly a momentous experience,” she quipped, again trying to inject a bit of levity into the situation, but found it difficult to steady her voice due to a sudden influx of conflicted emotions. She couldn’t blame Julian for wanting to show her something amazing, even if it did cause her to panic. It was sweet and she felt bad for making him feel bad.

  “Maybe we could try again?” she suggested, daring a timid smile.

  “I would not want to put you through additional agitation.”

  “I think if you give me a moment to prepare myself, I might be able to stay brave.” She lowered her eyes, unable to keep both her embarrassment and excitement from showing. “It’s still the opportunity to see outer space for real and, well, since I already know what to expect, maybe it won’t be so scary.”

  “If that is what you wish,” Julian replied with an equally timid and experimental smile. He reached for the console. “I’ve got the gravitational simulator ready to lower on your command.”

  “Okay, I’m ready,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut tight. Despite the warning, she still let out an involuntary squeak as her feet left the floor. At least the hammering of her heart was in anticipation this time.

  “I’m right here,” she heard Julian say as he slipped his hand into hers, transmitting waves of calming influence through his touch. Almost immediately, her mind stopped racing and her heart slowed from a tap dance to a steady rhythm. As a method of communication, diodal transmission was far more intimate than she might have been comfortable with under different circumstances. But in the weightless void of space, she welcomed the peace it brought her.

  “Keep your eyes closed,” she heard Julian’s voice, barely more than a whisper at her ear as his other hand gripped her shoulder and gently guided her around. There was a hint of excitement, augmented by a transmission that bordered on giddiness, sending a ripple of nervous anticipation fluttering through her insides.

  “Okay,” he said softly. “You can open them now.”

  Ellie opened her eyes and gasped, gripping Julian’s hand tighter in hers.

  “My god,” she breathed, immediately forgetting her fears as she attempted an awkward step out into the emptiness only to stumble into the invisible barrier of the ship’s wall. Below them, barren gray shadows moved lazily around the nebulous haze of a darkly molten star.

  Once, when she was a child, Richard had taken Ellie outside late at night to see the stars in the sky without the obfuscation of light pollution. She had been awed and aware even then of how small and insignificant life on her planet was in relation to the vastness of the universe. She didn’t think it possible to feel even more small and insignificant, yet here she was, sinking slowly to her knees in the nominal gravity, as if weighed down by her thoughts.

  So many questions filled her mind as she stared at the gray mass moving out of the star’s shadow thousands of miles below.

  “It housed life once. Long, long ago.”

  Ellie turned with a start. Julian’s comment answered the one question that was at the forefront of her mind.

  “You’re an open book right now,” he informed her with a quiet chuckle.

  Ellie looked down at her hand, still clasped in his, and blushed when she noticed the glow. In fact, she was so bright she could see the diodes through the thin material of her worn hoodie and some were bright enough even to shine through the thick denim of her jeans.

  “Sorry,” she squeaked, pulling away and curling her arms around her knees.

  “You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” he said quietly and placed an arm over her slumped shoulders. “Really, quite understandable, considering.” He turned his gaze upward and into the empty expanse. “I’ve traveled more of the galaxy than most ever will and yet, until now, I’ve seen nothing. Thank you, El’iadrylline, for opening my eyes.”

  Through their connection, Ellie could feel the magnitude of Julian’s own feelings of insignificance as well as his genuine gratitude, which caused a small flutter in her chest. She stole a glance out of the corner of her eyes and gasped. In his relaxed state, Julian had dropped his human disguise. Aside from the deep blue of his skin and slightly more angular features, he still looked like the Julian she knew. His eyes were fixed on some point in the depths of space, seemingly unaware of the scrutiny, perhaps even unaware that he’d let his guard down.

  A hint of gold flashed and Ellie shuddered, remembering that there was something strange and vaguely sinister about Julian’s eyes, though she had absolutely no memory of what that was or why she felt that way. The involuntary tremor and sudden transmission of revulsion caused Julian to turn his head, catching her fully in his gaze. Ellie felt both her body and mind go slack. Nothing mattered. Not Earth, not the universe, not even the stupid Kyroibi. Nothing mattered except the golden pools that held her mesmerized.

  “Ellie, stop.”

  The words were spoken softly, yet the command was firm. But they were nothing, just meaningless words. She could no more stop herself from falling into Julian’s eyes than she could stop the barren rock below her from orbiting its dying sun.

  “You control me, El’iadrylline. I am powerless.”

  No, she thought, not powerless. She reached up and put her fingertips to the sides of his head, drawing herself closer as she did, flooding him with a single, powerful, and very dangerous concept.

  Freedom.

  Julian squeezed his eyes shut and pushed her fingers from his face, propelling himself up and away before the idea began to take hold. Perhaps Isaverlline had been correct. Ellie’s greatest strength could easily become a weakness, unravelling that which was set in motion long before she was born. He dulled the ellipses, but chose not to don his human disguise. Something had to give. He needed Ellie to understand all that was at stake.

  “El’iadrylline,” he began, but was cut off when she pulled away, the spell broken.

  “Don’t,” Ellie huffed, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment and anger. She scrambled to her feet, but without the luxury of gravity, she sent herself shooting upward toward what looked like open space and shrieked.

  A hand wrapped around her ankle and tugged her back down. Before she could protest or move away, Julian wrapped his arms around her waist and glided the two of them back down to the floor, where he commanded the ship to restore itself to normal operations. With the return of artificial gravity came the feeling that she weighed several hundred more pounds than normal. On trembling legs and arms that felt like rubber, Ellie collapsed into her chair in front of the console.

  Julian followed, but rather than sit in his chair, he folded himself into a meditative posture at her feet, his back against the console, eyes closed, and a deep frown on his face. When he opened them, Ellie wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. This time, though, she saw irises of pure black. No golden ring commanded her attention. She wondered for a moment if she hadn’t hallucinated the entire event.

  For a long time, they sat in silence, each deep within their own thoughts. Finally, Julian spoke.

  “El’iadrylline, The gold ellipse that twice now mesmerized you is a standard assassin’s tool,” he explained. “Much like the paralyzing toxins secreted by some predatory animals, it is meant to captivate and immobilize a victim for an easy and clean kill. As my true master, you should be immune to its effect.”

  “And I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that I’m not,” she said, more of a statement of frustration than a question.

  “You are correct,” Julian said with a nod.

  “And so… Would you have?”

  “Would I have what?”

  “Would you have hurt me?” she asked. “Can you kill me?”

  “No,” Julian replied quietly, still unable to look her in the eye. Not because his words were untrue. The physical nature of the Kyri oath prevented any harm to her. His reluctance to face her had more to do with his unexpected reaction to her question, which went beyond the requisite protection of his master. Strong emotions were just as forbidden
and destructive as physical harm.

  “Then I don’t see an issue other than maybe… Can’t you just… I don’t know, not show off your assassin eye accessories in public?”

  “Were it as easy as that,” he said with a sad smile. “El’iadrylline, I am incapable of hurting you, but you need to understand that I am powerless to stop you from making decisions that would jeopardize us all.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “What it means is that my true master should be able to look me in the eye and give me an order even if I am on alert. Your reaction is not just unusual, but dangerous.”

  “It’s what I thought,” she said with a wary sigh. “Julian, you said Mom and Svoryk were corrupted because they weren’t Eidyn. I’m only half.”

  “No, Ellie, you misunderstand. Your heritage has little to do with whether or not you are the true master of the Kyroibi. When your father passed the Kyroibi to you, you became the true master. That your mother is Korghetian matters not.”

  “But I’m obviously not the true master,” she huffed. “Not if you can do whatever you just did with your eyes.”

  Julian gave a slight chuckle.

  “No, that actually proves that you are incapable of being swayed by the lure of absolute power, which under normal circumstances would be the sign that you are the very best choice to wield the power of the Kyroibi through these turbulent times.”

  “But I am guessing these aren’t normal circumstances,” Ellie said with a note of frustration.

  “No, Ellie. I’m afraid you are proving to be…” He trailed off and gave her a sheepish smile before continuing. “Let’s just say you’re a bit more stubborn than anyone expected.”

  Ellie bristled. “Excuse me?”

  “El’iadryov assumed your convictions would be influenced by your upbringing. I believe that is why he added measures to ensure you were unable to relinquish your dominion over me.”